


Marvellous Magic

by HPFandom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, Explicit Language, First Time, Humor, M/M, Parody, Romance, Sexual Content, Slash sex, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-17
Updated: 2008-03-17
Packaged: 2018-10-01 13:29:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10190882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HPFandom_archivist/pseuds/HPFandom_archivist
Summary: Severus Snape has always been fatally attracted to power: magical or otherwise. When a certain Harry Potter hits his Wizarding Puberty, the random magic spurts of a hormonal teenager are enough to drive Severus wild…





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [HP Fandom](http://fanlore.org/wiki/HP_Fandom_\(archive\)), which was closed for health and financial reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [HP Fandom collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hpfandom/profile).

**Title:** Marvellous Magic  
 **Author:** SoftlySweetly  
 **Beta:** Potion_Lady  
 **Pairing:** Harry/Severus  
 **Rating:** NC17  
 **Word count:** ~3250  
 **Warnings:** Slash, Adult themes and words, EWE, AU   
**Summary:** Severus Snape has always been fatally attracted to power: magical or otherwise. When a certain Harry Potter hits his Wizarding Puberty, the random magic spurts of a hormonal teenager are enough to drive Severus wild…  
 **Disclaimer:** I own nothing, just let them play for my own amusement. If you're not old enough, kindly amble away  
 **A/N:** Written for Sssalvadora (whose request I also used as the summary) over at Slashfest on LiveJournal

 

 

 

Really, Severus mused, he'd had a lucky escape. Slow-acting snake venom – the Dark Lord _had_ always enjoyed procrastination – meant that, though in great pain, he was still alive when the Aurors came for his body. Of course, the idiot brat had informed them that he was dead, and Severus had suffered the indignity of being transported to the Infirmary Wing in a body bag. But that was a small offence considering it bought him his life. And, with that life, he'd said all the right things in all the right places, to ensure he escaped Azkaban. He hadn't even lied (he'd occasionally neglected to tell every single part of the truth, but that was another thing entirely) except for one question. When asked if he was distressed that the Dark Lord was no more, Severus had answered a vehement _'no'_.

Which was a lie.

Because Severus, for all his sins, was cursed with a fatal sexual preference. Power got him off. Quite literally. While others were drawn to power to further their own interests, Severus was drawn to power to further his own ejaculate. 

Questionable beliefs and motives aside, the Dark Lord had been _very_ powerful. Being in the room when the Dark Lord cast a spell was to Severus what a warm and willing orifice was to others; attractive, alluring, and erotic. It was the sweetest caress of the prettiest virgin, the magical energy that washed over him when spells were cast. The more powerful the wizard, the greater the sensation. But the Dark Lord was the only wizard who had ever managed to bring Severus to orgasm with a simple spell. Well, two actually; the vehemence put into both the Cruciatus and the Avada Kedavra curse was enough to have Severus ruining his undergarments with lashes of creamy white pleasure. 

Dumbledore had warranted further research and promise, but though his spells were effective, they did not pack the same punch the Dark Lord's did – Severus supposed it had to do with danger and allure, or some such other ridiculous notion. However, Severus always had the feeling Dumbledore knew his secret, and it made him unwilling to enjoy the older man's spells. Which had left him with only the Dark Lord who was powerful enough to give the desired rush.

Now, however, as he continued teaching insufferable brats Potions (a very cruel and sadistic punishment on behalf of the Wizengamot, Severus felt), Severus had to accept that he would never get such a rush again.

~~~~~~~~~~♥~~~~~~~~~~

Personally, Harry thought that fighting in a war and defeating Voldemort qualified him far more than any bit of parchment. Alas, no one else seemed to agree, and Harry had no choice but to return to Hogwarts. Well, he did have a choice, but Kingsley had made it clear that no NEWTs meant no Auror training, and Mrs. Weasley had made it clear that no school was not an option. Harry may have defeated Voldemort, but he was not stupid or reckless enough to go up against Molly Weasley.

So here he was, unpacking his trunk and worrying about homework, and about Snape. Snape was a big worry. An epic worry. A worry so present and precise that Harry had thought of nothing but the greasy, sallow Potions Master for the past two weeks. It had given him a strange, nauseous feeling, as well as the sensation that he was too big for his skin, and he might explode out of it at any moment. He was so worried about facing up to Snape after what he had seen in the man's memories that his magic was going funny; becoming erratic and unpredictable. After holding his hand out to Summon his tea cup and having to dodge out of the way of the coffee table had happened once too often, Harry had decided that it would be best to just leave off unnecessary magic until he'd faced his demon.

~~~~~~~~~~♥~~~~~~~~~~

Severus was doing his rounds when he felt the wash of magic. Leaning against the wall, he enjoyed the hot, prickling sensation for a moment, before he realised that this meant some idiot students – Gryffindors, he'd wager – were out after curfew and casting spells in the halls. He growled; couldn't the vermin at least wait until the first week was over before they started with the destruction and delinquency? Preparing a list of choice insults, Severus went in search of the vile gobshites.

Two floors above Snape, Harry Potter stared around the Prefects' Bathroom in dismay. He had started off as having an innocent bath, but he was eighteen years old so it soon turned into a not so innocent wank. Which was fair enough, but somehow his orgasm – which had been unusually spectacular – had triggered a chain reaction that had led to all the glass in the room shattering into smithereens. It was unfair; now he had to clean everything up. Reaching for his wand, Harry pointed it at his glasses so that he'd be able to see the full extent of the damage and muttered, "Reparo!" 

Startled, Harry flinched and ducked under the water when all the shards of glass began shooting around the room. Emerging when he hoped it was safe, Harry was pleased to find everything repaired. He must be better at repairing spells than he'd originally though, a useful thing to know with Quidditch practice starting again in a week.

Two floors below, Severus fired a hex at a suit of armour, ignoring the curses the pompous metal shouted at him as he stomped off down the corridor. He'd been unable to find the offending students, or the results of the burst of magic, and that worried him. The magic had been strong, almost as strong as the Dark Lord's spells, which would need at least a dozen dimwit spawns to manage. The whole reason Severus was able to teach in a school full of randomly casting brats was that it took strong magical power to affect him, and most of these dimwits wouldn't know magical power if it hexed them up the backside. 

So, though Severus had felt the effects of the magic, and he could see the after effects in the fabric of the castle, he could not find the perpetrators. He was losing his touch. Storming through the hallways, Severus kicked out meanly at Mrs. Norris before he turned down the staircase that led to the dungeons. Death would have been sweet compared to the hell that was Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

~~~~~~~~~~♥~~~~~~~~~~

Flinging himself onto his bed, Harry mused back on the worst week of his life. Everything he touched seemed to explode or melt or generally bugger itself up. He'd missed Potions because he'd had to stay behind and clean up the Charms classroom – not only had he transfigured his rat into a bird, but he'd also blown all the bird's feathers off and around the room, leaving him with an equally pissed off bird and Charms teacher, and feathers in his hair that only increased the snide _Bird's Nest!_ comments from Malfoy and his gang of diminished, but still mean, followers.

"Harry?"

"Go away, Hermione. I was paying attention, I incanted properly, and I actually read the chapter. So just go away."

Ignoring the mardy tone, Hermione sat down on Harry's bed and shoved his shoulder roughly, forcing him to roll onto his side and face her. "Harry, are you sick?"

"What? No, just an idiot, apparently."

Rolling her eyes, Hermione folded one leg under her and ran her hand over Harry's forehead. "You have a temperature."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, really. How do you feel?"

Hermione had that look about her that was not to be argued with, so Harry swung up into a sitting position and answered her question. "I just feel a bit out of sorts; sometimes I feel sick, other times I feel like I'm too big for my skin. I think it's stress; I'm really worried about seeing Snape again, and it's making me feel ill and my magic go erratic."

"You should go to Madame Pomfrey."

"I don't want to. There's nothing wrong with me, Hermione!"

Scowling, Hermione swiped Harry around the head as she stood up. "Fine, but don't come crying to me if there's something wrong."

Harry watched as she left, rolling onto his back and staring up at the ceiling. Maybe there _was_ something wrong with him.

~~~~~~~~~~♥~~~~~~~~~~

After another week of explosions, erratic spells, and being kicked out of Potions within five minutes of entering the classroom due to all the cauldrons upending themselves around him – how Snape decided that was his fault, when his hand hadn't even been on his wand, Harry did not know – Harry realised there might actually be something wrong with him. So, storming out of his ninth detention this term for causing havoc in a classroom, Harry headed to the Infirmary Wing and Madame Pomfrey's office. Rapping his knuckles on the glass, Harry waited.

"Come in. Aaah, Mr. Potter, what's the matter?"

Closing the door behind him, Harry sat down in the chair next to Madame Pomfrey's desk and sighed softly. "I don't know. Recently… over the last month of the holidays, and then these first weeks of term, I feel really out of sorts. Sometimes I feel sick, and sometimes I feel all coiled up, like my skin is too tight for me. And I can't control my magic; things keep exploding, or simple spells just go completely over the top or wrong. And all the teachers seem to think I'm showing off or something, but I'm not doing this deliberately!"

Nodding, Madame Pomfrey took up her wand and cast a few spells over Harry. "Aaah, yes. I did wonder if you'd go through this noticeably or not."

"Go through what?"

"Wizarding puberty."

"What?"

Clucking her tongue at the poor manners, Madame Pomfrey reached into her drawer and pulled out a small pamphlet, handing it to a confused looking Harry. "Wizarding puberty is much like the biological puberty you've already gone through. It's a time when your magic matures and settles into the base rhythm that will stay with you all your life. Most witches and wizards don't even realise they're going through it, some experience a little trouble with getting spells to cast right. The most powerful can experience large disruption to their magical abilities."

"Oh. Well, what can I do?"

"There is nothing much that can be done, except wait it out. And try not to cast unnecessarily."

Sighing, Harry stood up and thanked Madame Pomfrey for her time. Why was it always him?

~~~~~~~~~~♥~~~~~~~~~~

Severus was caught quite unawares by his arousal. Sat at his desk, happily planning the death and destruction of his idiot eighth years, a wave of magic washed over him that was so powerful he wondered as to the Dark Lord's presence in his classroom, before his rational mind reminded him that the Dark Lord was dead. His cock was uncomfortably at attention in his robes, and Severus checked that his outer robe was hiding him properly before he stood up and advanced on the startled, burnt-around-the-edges Harry Potter. "What did you do?!"

"Nothing! I didn't do anything! It's not my fault!"

"Your cauldron exploded of its own accord?"

Harry groaned, bringing his hands to cover his face. "I forgot."

"What are you babbling about, Potter?"

Blushing furiously, Harry muttered through his hands, "It's puberty."

"It's… don't lie to me, boy! You're far too old for puberty."

As the rest of the class snickered, Harry glared up at Snape. "Magical puberty. Magic's going all erratic, and Madam Pomfrey says it isn't my fault!"

That brought silence to the class, and Severus was ashamed to find that he too was gawping at Harry Potter. 

Ron broke the silence, swallowing hard and looking at Harry like he was a new person. "Bloody hell, mate. Most people don't even notice, or just have a few problems with strength of spells for a few weeks. Not… they don't blow things up trying to light the flame for their cauldrons!"

"Yeah, well… when have I ever been normal?" Harry sniped back, recovering from his shock and feeling his anger grow that, yet again, he was being stared at like a circus attraction. "Professor, I didn't mean to…"

Regaining himself, Severus was too worried by the fact that on identifying Potter as the source of the magical energy his cock had only throbbed a little harder, not wilted as he'd expected it would, to listen to any bumbling excuses. "Regardless, you have exploded my classroom. Detention, tonight and the rest of the week, at seven sharp. Now clean up your mess, and as you're too foolish to use a wand, you'll have to do it manually."

~~~~~~~~~~♥~~~~~~~~~~

Harry's detentions followed much the same vein, with Snape sniping at him while Harry battled to clean magically-stained cauldrons without using magic. Things came to a head on Thursday evening when Snape had insulted him once too often.

"Shut up!"

Stopping his monologue on why Potter men were so stuck up and self-assured, Severus gaped at Potter in shock. The Gryffindor's anger had apparently become too much to contain, and Severus' classroom was covered in flecks of exploded potions ingredients. The scent of ozone – an after-effect of heavy casting – was heavy in the air, and Severus bit the inside of his cheek to reign himself back into control. His prick had jumped up at a speed that belied his age, and Severus subtly shifted his heavy outer robe to be sure that no sign of his predicament could be seen. "What did you say?"

Fists clenched, Harry squared up to Snape. Screw manners, he'd faced worse than Snape and come out alive. "I said shut up. If you want to have a go at me, then have a go at me. But leave my dad out of it; I know that it's only sour grapes because my mum loved him and not you. So just shut up."

The insolence was so breath-taking that Severus was lost for words. Unable to guarantee that he could reprimand Potter without hexing him to death, Severus glared at the younger man until emerald eyes dropped. "You will clean this room to perfection before I even consider letting you leave. And another three weeks of detentions for your outburst will be appropriate."

Scowling, Harry bit his tongue to save earning himself any more time with Snape, and picked up his wand. He'd cleaned the entire Prefects' bathroom with one spell, and figured that this was a situation where randomly extreme magic would help. Waving his wand, Harry muttered the cleaning spell, pleased when the classroom was returned to normal.

As the magic washed over him, it set Severus' nerves alight, sending pleasure crackling through his body and causing him to stagger sideways, leaning on the desk to keep himself upright. The one time when Potter's dim wits would have come in handy, and they were nowhere to be found, as the Gryffindor noticed Severus' predicament before he could straighten up.

"Professor? Merlin, did I hurt you or… oh!" Harry recoiled, the act of grabbing Snape's arm to pull him upright having pulled his robes taut, revealing a strangely placed bulge. Staring at it, an indescribable sense of mischief spread through Harry, and he looked up to smirk at his flushed Potions Master. "Professor, I thought your wand was on your desk?"

Severus was about to reprimand the Gryffindor when another wave of magic crashed over him.

Holding out his hand, Harry Summoned Snape's wand to him. "Oh, look, here's your wand. So what's that?" Harry didn't really expect an answer, but he couldn't help noticing the strangely enticing flush that was present in Snape's cheeks. Snape looked like he might faint, so Harry raised his wand to conjure a chair behind the Potions Master.

"Stop casting!" Severus yelled, forgoing secrecy to protect his robes and pride from being soiled. Potter looked confused, but lowered his wand obediently, giving Severus time to sit down on a chair before his knees gave way. 

In a moment of uncharacteristic clarity, Harry put two and two together and got four. Strong magic left him feeling strangely altered, and he realised with a jolt that Snape had fetishized this sensation. Which meant Harry could do one of two things. Leave and never speak of this incident again, or stay and use it to his advantage. Leaning back against the desk, keeping Snape clearly in his view, Harry pointed his wand at the older man's throat and began slowly casting spells to undo the tiny, intricate buttons on the heavy robe. 

Snapping his head forwards, Severus tried to fight the powerful waves of magic that were hitting him, becoming mind-stealing arousal that ran through his body and set his nerves alight. Every time he got close to sniping at the brat, the brat undid another button, finally flicking his wand to open Severus' robes, the heavy material hanging down his sides and exposing his pale, lean body to the dungeon air. 

Harry supposed he should wonder as to the morals of what he was doing, but he didn't care. He was turned on beyond belief, and would be wanking himself raw to this later tonight. That knowledge didn't deter him, and he cast an appreciative eye over Snape, seeing potential that he'd never noticed before. With a smirk, Harry went in for the kill, aiming a hair-removing charm at Severus' furred bollocks. 

His yell of indignation became a scream of pleasure as the powerful magic concentrated on his most sensitive area drove Severus into a frenzy, arching his body like a bow as he came hard.

When Snape sagged back against the table, spent, Harry stood up and Summoned his bag to him, swinging it over his shoulder and keeping his wand in hand just in case Snape took great offence to what had passed between them. Walking to the door, Harry opened it before turning back, meeting black eyes as he murmured, "Perhaps tomorrow night I can lick you clean."

~~~~~~~~~~♥~~~~~~~~~~

Harry's legs and arms burned with exertion, but he kept lifting himself up and down on the solid prick inside of him, riding Severus hard and calling out to everything he could think of as the swollen glans of his lover's prick stimulated his prostate on every thrust. Harry was close, and he knew Severus was too. With a final yell, Harry curled forward, head resting on Severus' shoulder as long arms encased him while he trembled with his orgasm. He heard Severus' yell, and smirked as he felt the older man coming underneath him.

Relaxing, Harry shifted a little to get comfortable, feeling Severus' softening cock slide out of him. They lay in comfortable silence, both coming down from their highs, until Harry asked, "Still as good without the random magic?"

Severus tipped Harry's head to the side, letting the younger man see the shattered water glass he'd caused when he came and lost control of his magic for a second. "Brat, puberty over or not, you'll never be able to control your magic. Perhaps, if you're lucky, I'll teach you some control."

"Perhaps, if you're lucky, I'll cast enough spells in class tomorrow to make you come in your robes."

Growling, Severus flipped them over and set about teaching the Gryffindor some manners.


End file.
